The Perks of Being a Wallflower

by Stephen Chbosky

Something really is wrong with me. And I don’t know what it is. Love always, Charlie

I just wish that God or my parents or Sam or my sister or someone would just tell me what’s wrong with me.

But because things change. And friends leave. And life doesn’t stop for anybody.

I took what the author wrote about and put it in terms of my own life. Maybe that’s what being a filter means. I’m not sure.

every person has to live for his or her own life and then make the choice to share it with other people.

I’m afraid that maybe since he isn’t sad, he won’t want to spend time with me.

“Charlie. Please don’t take this the wrong way. I’m not trying to make you feel uncomfortable. I just want you to know that you’re very special… and the only reason I’m telling you is that I don’t know if anyone else ever has.”

I do consider you a friend, Charlie.”

“Please don’t feel bad. It was very nice,” I said. I was starting to get really upset.

So, I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we’ll never know most of them. But even if we don’t have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them.

And even if somebody else has it much worse, that doesn’t really change the fact that you have what you have. Good and bad.

I don’t think I have it any better or worse than she does. I don’t know. It’s just different.

That doesn’t mean that what you are going through is somehow less. Meaningful. Special. Unique. On the contrary, it means that what you are going through is more. It is important. It deserves to be seen, spoken of, and understood.

You are part of an infinite family.

That is my long way of saying thank you, Dear Friend. Twenty years ago, a young man wrote some letters. You wrote him back. And a grown man was inspired to write again.

I can tell you what happened to Charlie in three words . . . He made it. And so will you. Love always, Charlie